Date: 2018-05-29 05:37 am (UTC)
pointedlook: <lj user="seethesoldiers" site="insanejournal.com"> (here goes nothing)
From: [personal profile] pointedlook
"Or whatever", god.

[ Arthur laughs, a soft huff of disbelief as Eames washes the shampoo out of his hair. It's a sight, all that water running down the planes of his face, sloping along his shoulders. If he weren't so tired, he'd considering following those paths with his tongue.

(Though even with the sleepiness, he's still considering it). ]


Here.

[ He hands him the small bar before turning his attention on washing up as well. It's efficient as always and when he's finished, he steps out of the shower, wraps himself immediately in one of the fluffy towels. His hair is loose, wet, and curling, something he knows makes him look about ten years younger. Normally he tries to tame it before Eames sees, but he doesn't care right now, too preoccupied with getting dry and warm. ]
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arthur "angrily eats salad"

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